Reviewers Unite!
by Mahan
Summary: The Channel Awesome crew is in grave peril, and only when all reviewers unite can the evil be defeated. R&R
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Special thanks to Doug Walker and the others from Channel Awesome, as well as Andrew Dickman, who gave me the inspiration to write this story. All characters depicted in this story are owned by their respective properties, and not by me. R&R, so I know whether or not to continue this.

Chapter 1 – Shaman's Words

He reached for another book off of the shelf. He briefly examined the spine, which read 'Shaman's Words, Vol. 3'. He had read through the previous volumes earlier that day, which contained, among other things, ten different dates for Armageddon and ten thousand different reasons why 'Disaster Movie' didn't need to be made. Given the series' track record, he didn't keep his hopes up for anything substantial.

There was something strange in the air around Washington that day. Oancitizen couldn't put his finger on it, but he definitely felt a disturbance. Not a disturbance in the Force, as his pop-culture flooded brain first assumed, but a disturbance nonetheless. He finished editing for his latest review, and decided to consult his chronicles to see if there was anything foreshadowed. He thought that he was probably reading too deeply into it (Like he made a living out of) but there was a niggle in his mind that wouldn't let up until he was absolutely certain.

He opened the ancient text, its leathery pages stained with time. He scanned the pages, looking for a sign of something amiss.

"Let's see here." Said Oancitizen, scratching his beard with thought.

"Men of earth with the gift of sight,

And who predict when others fall,

Simply do not have the right

If they cannot see their own, after all."

He considered it for a second, but dismissed it in less than a second. "No, that can't be it. I, nor any of my colleagues, ever predict the fall of others. We may in jest, but that can't be susceptible to this, as we know ourselves we must fall one day when age catches up to us."

He continued reading the tome, almost willing something to be wrong so that he could stop reading these books and get back to uploading his latest review, as they were starting to become drier than the desert in 'Gerry'. But then something caught his eye. Another prophecy, much like the others in the book in their wording, but unlike the others in its relevance. He read it once over, and his critically trained brain unconsciously got to work decoding it. He kept reading it over and over to make absolutely sure he knew what he was reading before he reacted too rashly. The prophecy was this:

The Wayfarer has much to fear

And those who share in his ways of mirth

For in order to save all they hold dear

They will be called to protect the Earth

In the darkness, the powers ally

Those of ill mind, of mania and rage

Of misguided protection and vast death tally

Of men who are mirrors of those on the stage

Each twig will break with little effort

If divided and continue to hold past grudges

But if they unite and hold the fort

The bundle will survive and continue to be judges

If the Wayfarer wants to survive

He must prepare to fight the worst

And as for you, from the torch lighter's home

You will be the first

Oancitizen slammed the book shut with a loud bang and dropped it on the floor. He immediately flicked the switch in his brain that activated his neural analytic circuits. In other words, it was time to think over the passage.

"Okay, 'The Wayfarer' itself resides in the Museum Boijmans-van Beuningen in Holland, but what else does wayfarer mean? Traveller? Rambler? Walker?" He paused, as the thought struck him like a bad joke. "Walker, as in Doug Walker, the Nostalgia Critic. The Critic is going to suffer strife. Or, at least, MORE strife than he already goes through every week. But wait, the passage mentioned "those who share in his ways of mirth", as in the rest of us. Not only is he in danger, we all are. We all need to 'protect the Earth' but from what? It mentions powers in the darkness, but that could be anything. Wait, the 'men who are mirrors'. Mirrors, shadows, reflections of something or someone else. They mirror those on the stage, as in those who perform. Performers, as in reviewers. Therefore, people who imitate the reviewers are the threat the prophecy speaks of. But it must mean more than that. If that alone was the case, the Nerd would be at war with the Irate Gamer. No, they are mirrors, not of style but appearance. Linkara, Phelous, Spoony and Nella all have dark duplicates, but they have all been quelled. Or, at least, we thought they were quelled."

He stopped for a few seconds and took a few good deep breaths. He wasn't quite finished yet.

"But those four alone wouldn't be enough to pose enough of a threat, not while we still have THEIR reflections who can easily destroy them like they did before. 'Men of ill mind' could mean someone who has ill thoughts on the mind, or that the mind itself is ill, and the person is insane. Insane, as in Insano. Dr. Insano could be involved in this. Huh, isn't he always? 'Of misguided protection and vast death tally', as in those who wish to protect but are misguided in their approaches. Didn't Linkara fight a guy who wanted to save everyone from something by taking over their realities? Lord Sin or something?" He halted again and thought for a few phemtoseconds. Almost immediately, he snapped his fingers in triumph. "Lord Vyce, that was the cad's name! He could be involved as well. The prophecy spoke of uniting together and putting all grudges aside, meaning we'll need everyone together in order to defeat this mighty meeting of malevolence. But who is this one from the lantern lighter's home, I can't figure it out. Okay, torch, torch, torch…" He kept chanting the word to himself, as if doing so would summon a great spirit called Torch that could help him in this time of crisis. "Torch is another word for light, or flame, or lantern. Lantern, as in the Green Lanterns. The Lanterns were trained by the Guardians of the Universe who, in this equation, we could consider to be those who 'light the Lantern's torches', whom live on the planet at the universe's centre, or what USED to be the universe's centre at least, Oa."

He froze for a second, as the notion sank in like a bowling bowl in a pool.

"Citizen of Oa. Oancitizen."

He immediately ran the few feet from his reading room to the phone. He dialled a few numbers and waited for a response.

"Hello, Critic. It's me, Oancitizen."

"Who?"

"You know, I do Brows Held High, where I review arthouse movies."

"Oh, the pretentious douchebag. What do you want?"

"Listen, we don't have much time. I'm coming to Chicago, and I need to meet you there. Something is coming. And it's coming after all of us, including you. Call the others, get them over there. We need a plan. I'll explain everything when I get there. Suffice to say, it's not good."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"You know, under normal circumstances, I would just hang up right now and consider you criminally insane but…" He sighed. "After all that's happened over the last few months, especially with what happened to Ma-Ti, I can't let this go. Not without hearing what's going on. So… Okay. Get on the next flight to Chicago, I'll meet you there. However…" His voice became softer and quieter, as well as more sinister. "If I find out that this is all just a joke, just an ill-thought out scheme to waste my time… I will end you."

There was silence for some seconds.

"So, I'll see you in a few days." Said the Critic, all bittersweetness and light again.

Oancitizen stood stunned for a short while longer. "Yeah, sure."

The Critic hung up.

Oancitizen went to his computer to sort out the travel details. He decided not to ring the others. Not yet. Not until they know a bit more about what will happen. The hairs on the back of his neck stood tall; if the words of Matacul were accurate, he had little time.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: United Fandom

He swiftly looked behind, then shot his viewpoint towards the rooftops. Despite his constant running, he still saw that same bastard in black brandishing a sniper rifle.

"Shit!" said Film Brain. His eyes darted between the alleys that were open to him, not sure which route to take. With that sniper looming over his head, and with his friends in close pursuit behind him, he had to act fast. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve, it having become quite damp as he had been doing this constantly for the last hour or so, and took the path to the right. He ran through the dimly-lit Reading streets, briefly looking behind him to see if they were still tailing him. He couldn't see them, so he turned back round... And immediately collided with someone else in the alley.

They both fell to the ground in a heap, or rather, as Film Brain later discovered, they ALL fell to the ground in a heap. They all got up and brushed themselves off. One of them turned his flashlight towards Film Brain. Film Brain immediately covered his eyes from the 200 lumen-bright blue fire.

"Film Brain? Is that you?" Film Brain lowered his arms, after the figure lowered his light.

"Hello, Ashens. Nice to meet you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'M BEING CHASED BY A GANG ARMED WITH FUCKING ASSAULT RIFLES!" He started to run past the group, but a large hand reached out and held him back.

"We know that, you twit." said Diamanda Hagan, pulling Film Brain into the pseudo-circle that the group had made. "They're after us as well. They managed to sneak into my compound last night, fucking hitmen."

"Hitmen?" said Ashens. "Why hitmen? I mean, I know our videos are bad, but they can't be THAT bad."

Welshy, Guru Larry, Film Brain, Diamanda Hagan and MikeJ all glared at him.

"What?" said Ashens, his sense of snark not having been altered by this experience. "Never heard a joke before?"

"There's a time and a place for that. Guess what this?" said Welshy, taking a deep breath. "NOT THE FUCKING TIME, NOR THE FUCKING PLACE!"

"Guys, shut up, will you?" said MikeJ, looking worriedly at the rooftops. "Do you want them to find us and put bullets through our heads?" The group immediately quieted. "I didn't think so. Okay, Dr. Ashens, have you got the map?"

Ashens pulled out a rather wrinkled and well-worn map out of his pocket. He unfolded it, it making a crackling sound as he did so, and held it out.

"Wait. First off, shouldn't we fill in Film Brain on what's going on? I mean, he looks like he just shat himself in fear." said Guru Larry, gesturing to Film Brain. Film Brain wagged his head up and down like a bobblehead.

"Fair enough." said Diamanda Hagan. "Okay, listen well, Film Lacks-A-Brain, 'cause we only have enough time to go through this once. According to my contacts in the British underground, we all have had bounties put on our heads."

"Who by?" said Film Brain, timidly.

"I was getting to that!" shouted Diamanda Hagan, smacking him in the shoulder. "Apparently, from what I can tell, the Avatar of Decent Humour and..." She glanced at Ashens. "What was the other's name again?"

"The Silver Skull, what will have to pass for my archnemesis."

"Right, the Silver Skull. Yeah, the Avatar of Decent Humour and the Silver Skull have collectively put a bounty out that has, from the looks of things, at least half the gangsters in England after us. Well, assumedly, that should only result in myself and Ashens being targeted but, as we ran into Guru Larry and Welshy, we discovered that that wasn't the case. This goes much further than just the two of them."

"It would have to." said Ashens, piping in, "The Silver Skull isn't clever enough to pull this sort of shit off. I mean, have you heard some of his jazz improvisations?" He made a grimace. "It's like listening to the biggest fingernail ever made scrape across an entire world made of chalkboards."

"Okay!" said Diamanda Hagan, clearly getting fed up. "The next person who interrupts my expositing will get a free colonoscopy, courtesy of Dr. Kills-At-Thirty-Paces!" He pulled her signature gun out of its holster and brandished it at them, her red and white makeup making her looking a crazed, bloodthirsty warrior ready to make a kill... Which she probably was. They all shrank back, all except for Guru Larry who backed up sharply into a wall and ended up hurting himself. "Anyone else want to chime in?" Silence, save for the light wince coming from Larry's direction. "I didn't think so." She holstered her gun again, the group looking noticeably relieved that she did so. "Anyway, we were trying to make our way to London, but someone..." She stared at Welshy. "Insisted on making a pit stop."

"Hey," said Welshy, "Excuse me for not wanting a fellow reviewer to snuff it. It's not as if he'd be able to save himself, so I figured someone else had to do it."

"Nevertheless, by majority vote, it was decided that we make our way through Reading to get to London so we could find you, but when we got here, we realised we had no idea where you lived, so we resorted to guesswork. Then you literally crashed into us, and here we are now. Now, with that out of the way, can we please figure out how we are going to get to London?"

"Oh, I'm afraid that you won't make it to London." said a sinister voice from the shadows. "At least, not in one piece, you won't."

The entire group of English Evaluators (Okay, they weren't ALL English, but screw it, I want my alliteration, damn it) shot glances at the voice in the darkness. All except Hagan, who shot three rounds straight into the thing's chest, or at least what she assumed was its chest, it was hard to tell. The voice only laughed in response. Ashens shone his flashlight at the figure. Despite being under power torch light, they still couldn't make out who, or what, the voice's source was. He was dressed in a black cloak that covered most of his body, except for the head which was covered by some sort of white fabric. In front of the figure was three spent bullets.

"I see those hired guns did a pitiful job of finishing you off. Kind of a good thing in hindsight, since that gives ME the chance to kill you personally." He gestured his hands forward, and out came four more hit men, two on each side of him. "Take care of the others," he told them, "Leave our dear Mr. Jeavons to me."

MikeJ immediately stepped forward. "Me? Why me?"

"Oh, we have some unfinished business to attend to. I'm surprised you still don't recognise me." He pulled down his cloak a little more so that his neck was exposed. The fabric continued down and stopped at his neck, which had ribbing on it.

"Sock?" Said MikeJ, fear striking his face like he had struck his sister the night before.

"Yes, it is I. My masters have given me a new form so that I am better equipped to deal with you, especially after our last little encounter. Oh, by the way, you never did figure out my real name, did you? You just called me 'The Sock', how fuckin' lazy are you?"

MikeJ, scared and yet unbearably curious, asked the obvious question. "Why are you still talking when you could killing us right now?"

"It's tradition. I'm supposed to monologue like this before I kill someone. Now, ask the damn question!" His form seemed to bristle underneath the cloak.

"Okay, fine. What's your real name?"

"I am the Sentient Omnisexual Critic Killer."

MikeJ fought hard to keep from smirking.

"Now, with that out of the way," He breathed in deep, "Attack!"

But suddenly, out of the darkness beyond the S.O.C.K. and his companions was the faint but definitive sound of a piano playing. It took a while for the reviewers to figure it out, but they finally managed to get a hold of the song that was playing: Party Rock Anthem.

"Every day, I'm shufflin'." Came another voice from the shadows, only this one wasn't sinister like the S.O.C.K.'s, but rather strong and lyrical, like the harsh yet delicate sound of a saw playing a double bass. As soon as those words were uttered, the hit men and the S.O.C.K., as if possessed by some unknown power, began to shuffle to the piano music. Try as they might, and from the looks on the assassins' faces they certainly were trying, they couldn't stop shuffling.

Then, another surprise came onto the scene. As Hagan was shooting like crazy since the S.O.C.K. revealed itself, with the bullets collecting in a pile at his feet, it couldn't be distinguished at first, but four extra gunshots were fired. Not at the S.O.C.K., but at the hit men. One by one, they fell like stiff marionettes, leaving the S.O.C.K. alone, still shuffling the night away.

"Now," Said yet another voice, slightly squeaky in fashion but none the less commandeering and powerful. "With those distractions out of the way, Todd, cut off the music."

"Gladly." Said Todd, with a sigh of relief, and he halted the music. A whooshing sound came from behind the reviewers; someone had just leapt down to their position, his left palm landing flat on the rough ground as he landed. He stood up, his brown coat flying behind him slightly as he walked forward and revealed himself.

"Now, Mr. S.O.C.K.," Said the mighty Minnesotan, "Think for a second: Do you really think you're enough to kill all of us?"

The Critic Killer looked at the reviewers, and then behind it at Todd, who was leaning his club on his right shoulder. Within two seconds, it had receded into the night, running past Todd as it did so. Todd tried to tackle him, but the S.O.C.K. just smacked him away.

"Thanks for trying, Todd." Todd let out a slight groan. "Never send a sock to do a MAN's job." Said Linkara. He reached for the communicator on his left wrist.

"Linkara to Comicron 1, are you there, Nimue?"

"Affirmative. Are the targets eliminated?"

"The hit men are knocked out, but S.O.C.K. got away. Doubtless we'll run into again soon, though." He said this not so much to Nimue, but rather to Hagan, whom he knew was still in a state of bloodlust. "Nimue, prepare for teleportation."

"Commencing teleportation."

The eight reviewers were then sent a hundred miles upwards, and brought into the cold green and metallic light of Comicron 1's bridge. Linkara immediately made his way to the ship's console.

"Nimue, set a direct course for Chicago." He turned around to the bewildered and clearly mindfucked UK reviewers. "Okay, I guess I should explain what's going on..."

As the Craft of Freedom soared through the sky towards Chicago, 100,000 light years away from Earth on a cold planet, two women were walking across its surface. One had the look of a goth: black eyeliner, black leather jacket and black skirt. The one distinguishing feature about her was slightly obscured, but was still visible: A Starfleet emblem on her black t-shirt. The other woman was wearing a t-shirt with the picture of an Earth-born metal band under a black trench coat, leather pants and black fingerless gloves, one of which gripped a mighty sword that gave off an eerie blue glow.

As they continued walking, they quickly noticed something in the distance. All they could make out was a vivid blob of black against the snowy backdrop. As soon as they both caught sight of it, they immediately made a dash for it, wanting to do their job and get out of the miserably cold weather as soon as was possible.

They approached the blob, which had now morphed into the shape of a person. It heard their crunching footsteps in the snow, and turned around to face them. When they felt they had reached an appropriate distance, the two women stopped.

"Why are you here?" Said the figure, in a voice that seemed to be spoken through an electronic voicebox.

"For you, Lord Vyce." Said Dark Nella. "Our master has specifically requested that you be at his side."

"But I can't!" Said Lord Vyce, clenching his clawed hands as he did so. "That stupid Champion has exiled me here. I am unable to leave this planet until he releases me from this frozen prison. And knowing him, he's probably been absorbed by the Entity already."

"But he isn't." Said Judas Liz. "The Entity is gone. Somehow, Linkara managed to get it to destroy itself."

A low growling noise came from Vyce. Judas took a step back.

"He destroyed a being that I have spent many cycles to exterminate, a quest that has destroyed most of my body, on... his... own?" His voice had become a technological screech of pure hatred. "It absorbed my entire reality, taking everything I ever cared for with it; and it was destroyed by a pathetic comic book nerd?"

A smirk grew across Dark Nella's face. "We have the means to release you from this world, as well as a craft to take you with us."

Lord Vyce immediately walked closer to Nella.

"Get off of this rock, and get me to Linkara!"

"Right this way." Nella turned around and started walking back towards their own craft. Judas Liz and Vyce followed suit, walking on either side of her. Another had been recruited, and he wouldn't be the last.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Whole Mess-o'-Meta

"I'm sorry," Said the ship captain, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes, "Let me get this straight: You want me to take you to Chicago, without pay, because a bunch of evil clones are chasing you?"

"Trust me," Said Phelous, still panting from the strenuous run he and Luke had undergone a few moments before, "It doesn't make any sense to us, either. But think for a second: If we were honestly in trouble and needed to get to Chicago by boat, don't you think we would have come up with a better excuse unless what we were saying was actually true?"

The captain thought about this for a second. "Fair point. But I still don't see why I should take you on my ship pro bono. What's in it for me?"

Luke, also slightly out of breath but vastly improving, thought it over for a few moments. Or, rather, conferenced over it for a few moments as he went into his own mind.

"Okay guys, do you have any suggestions on what we should do to get on the boat?"

"You've gotten over the hard part in getting him to believe you," Said Ringo, "Just say he'll get paid when we get to Chicago. For all we know, that could happen."

"Yeah, but what if there isn't anyone there at Chicago when we arrive?" Said Philip, "Then we'll be fucked and he'll probably just hand us over. In no way, can we afford that to happen. Just bring up how, if they continue to argue about this, those clones will show up and kill all three of us. That should get him moving."

Luke nodded inside his own mind, and then relayed this to the ship captain. He was about to argue this point again when they heard a faint sound in the distance.

Within mere seconds, the faint sound became a vast stampede of footsteps on the dull, cold earth behind them. A virtual army of Phelous copies running straight for them, all looking identical save for one. One was wearing a dark hat and coat, and was walking at a steady pace while the army swarmed around and ahead of him.

The boat captain took one glance at the army approaching them like a pack of drunken rhinos and said, "Done. Get on." And with that, the three of them quickly got on the ferry, the captain getting on last and untying the knot holding it onto the Ontario pier.

The three of them started running towards the bridge, Phelous and Luke getting lost, not knowing where the bridge was.

"Hey, Canucks!" Shouted the captain from a small room, "Over here!"

The two reviewers followed his voice to the bridge. The captain was sitting in the captain's chair, started pushing buttons and flicking switches on the captain's controls, and the captain's ship started moving.

"Why does everything have to have the word 'Captain' in front of it?" Said Phelous, flashing a confused look to the captain.

"Why do all of your reviews have the word 'Phelous' in them?" Said the captain, mimicking Phelous' confused expression.

Phelous sighed, and then he took a double-take. "Wait, you know who I am?"

The captain cursed under his breath. "Yeah. Luke as well. I'm a big fan of your work." As he said 'work', his voice cracked slightly.

"Geez, your voice is still breaking? How old are you?"

"16. Don't ask me how I got this job."

"You wrote yourself into your own story as a lame attempt at meta?"

The captain put a finger to his lips.

"Shhh. The reader isn't meant to know that yet."

Phelous paused for a moment.

"Oh, right. Okay. Well, Mr. Captain-Guy-That-We-Definitely-Don't-Know-The-Identity-Of, how long will it be before we reach Chicago?"

"From here, at top speed, we'll be there in about 2 days. Best get comfortable, mates."

Getting comfortable quickly became the least of their priorities, as a loud and heavy thud came from the roof, followed by a raspy voice shouting "Find them, and bring them to me!"

"I don't suppose you have an armory on this boat, do you?" Queried Luke.

"I thought you two had your own weapons." Said the captain, scrambling towards a closet in one of the other sections of the deck. "Phelous, don't you have a bunch of weapons from your Resident Evil reviews?"

"Well, yeah, but it's not as I carry them around with me everywhere I go. It's not as if I was expecting to be attacked by hundreds of my clones this month."

"Well, it's a good thing this is a world where I can openly poke fun at cliches." The captain opened the closet, revealing a black trunk. He swung it open and took out a silver 9mm pistol. He handed it to Phelous. Phelous quickly examined this, and made a shocking discovery.

"What is this?" Said Phelous, doing a voice that would make Barry Gjerde proud.

"That is exactly what you think it is. You can thank me later, if we survive this. Now, Luke: Pick one. We haven't got much time."

Luke walked over to the trunk, looked over the assortment of toys that the captain conveniently had stored. One weapon in particular caught his eye, and while his friends bickered over it, he ignored and went after the massive shotgun anyway. He took some shells from the trunk as well, and put them in his jacket pocket, putting two in the gun itself.

"I got a shotgun." Luke snickered a little. "You ready?" Said Luke, brandishing his arm.

"What do you think? You gonna help us out?" He asked the captain.

"Hey, I'm just the supplier. This is your story; make the readers enjoy it. Good luck." And with that, he immediately ran back to the bridge, and locked the door behind him.

Just then, the footsteps made their way down the stairs towards our two courageous Canadians.

"Head over there," Said Luke, gesturing to the other side of the room. "There's more than one stairway leading from the roof. You guard that one, I got this one."

"Since when did you become Captain Guy?"

"Since my Inner Soldier got over his PTSD and gave me a few pointers. Now get over there, soldier!"

Phelous, not wanting to argue with the kid carrying a shotgun, went over to the other set of stairs. Within moments, Luke started firing at the vastly growing herd of Phelouses, his eyes as cold as the bodies were quickly becoming. While Luke was blasting the heads clean off, Phelous was firing off rounds right between the eyes of the approaching clones, and hitting with astounding accuracy. The bodies were piling up just in front of the stairs, making it harder for new Phelouses to step, and there was a metric fuckton of them! But then...

Click.

"Shit!" Said Phelous, firing twice more, but to no avail. "Luke, I don't suppose you could throw an extra clip? Or several, if possible?"

Luke, still firing away at the Phelouses, was still aiming at the enemy with dead eye focus and blocking out everything else that was going around him except for the Phelouses.

"Fine. I'll get them myself, why don't I?" Phelous ran over to the trunk and grabbed a few extra clips. Suddenly, there was a loud crash that knocked Luke out of his trance. It was a window. Or, more specifically, all of the windows. Realising that the stairways were quickly becoming blocked by their own corpses, the Phelouses had started crashing through the windows. Well, most of them, as some were too small and Phelous clones got wedged in them, but nevertheless, the situation was getting worse. They needed a plan, and quickly.

"Got any ideas?" Said Luke, realising he was quickly running out of shells.

"I'd say we're fucked, Luke. You?"

Luke was getting visibly shaken. He wasn't a naturally angry or nervous person, but at this moment, he felt an exceptional blend of both. It felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest like the Facehugger in Alien. But then, something happened. How it happened, I myself can't even explain, but let me put it to you like this: What once was one has become many.

Suddenly, there were tens of Lukes at the ready, all huddled together.

"Okay, guys. I don't know any more than you do, but you surely know how much danger we're in. Grab a weapon, and get to work. We haven't got long."

And with that, the Lukes grabbed their own arms, Ralph being last and selecting a very lethal looking machete that was nestled on the bottom. And without delaying any longer, they were unleashed. Ralph ran directly at the herd, letting out a blood-curdling scream and slashing crazily as he did; Wretch, not bothering with anything in the trunk, grabbed a nearby table and threw it into the crowd like a discus; Philip smacked around a group of Phelouses with a lead pipe and Ringo took up an AK-47 and fired wildly at the mass of burgundy shirts and bowl cuts. The others just took up pistols and shot away, just hoping that they would something that wasn't one of their own.

Within a few minutes, there was a loud, megaphone-assisted voice screeching "Now It's my turn." And with that, the Phelouses began to retreat. A few seconds later, a loud bang rocked the boat. But it didn't tip the boat over, so much as it destroyed the top deck. Everyone looked up, and saw D1 standing on the edge of a helicopter, megaphone in his right hand.

"I see my army has done little to halter you two. I guess I should have just gone and bombed the ship to the ground at the beginning."

"Yeah, you're kind of an ill-prepared dumbass like that." Said Phelous.

"Oh well. I still won't, though. I want to kill you with my own two hands." D1 put down the megaphone, and picked up a harpoon with a rope attached to the end of it. He threw it at the boat, and slid down the rope. He grabbed Phelous by the throat with his right hand.

"Time to die now, and I'm taking all of you unfunny jackasses with him!"

"Luke, get off the boat now! I can hold him off."

As if to make what Phelous said pointless, the Phelous mob started running towards the Lukes.

"Should have been quicker." Said Luke, firing and hitting three Phelouses in the head at once. "Ringo, Wretch, grab that table. We're gonna need something to get us to Chicago. How far is Chicago from here, anyway?"

"Two days to the south, like I said." Said a muffled voice from the other side of the bridge door. A metallic scraping sound came from the door.

Wretch and Ringo picked up the table and threw it out the window, it landing with a splash on the sea below. Philip ran over to see what the scraping was. It was a compass that the captain had slid under the door. He threw it at Luke, who caught it in his right hand.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Said the captain. "Just make sure the story stays interesting."

And with that, the Lukes jumped out of the window onto the table.

"Guess it's time to die then." Said Phelous, reaching for a grenade that he had in his pocket. D1 looked at it with fear, as did the Phelous mob. Phelous pulled the pin and dropped the grenade.

"Geronimo."

And with that, the entire boat exploded, the shockwave sending Luke's table speeding forward, albeit in the wrong direction.

"Quick everyone! Help me steer this thing." Said Luke, just as he looked around and saw that he was alone again.

"Hey, Luke." Said Ringo inside his mind. "Don't worry, you'll be able to steer it yourself. Just tilt to the right and you'll eventually be pointing the right way."

Luke did this, evening out and heading south towards the U.S. As he paddled forward, he pondered over how Phelous had sacrificed himself to save him. But then he remembered how Phelous could regenerate, and immediately felt okay again. Then he remembered how the Doctor had died permanently from drowning one time and how that could happen to Phelous and became sad again.

"Dammit, Philip!"

"Hey, I'm just being realistic here."

And with that melancholy thought echoing in his brain, he continued onwards to Chicago, hoping that he would make it to the others before it was too late.

Insane giggling echoed through the base. Vyce had no real liking for it, and hearing it in stereo only made it worse.

"The modifications are nearly complete, master!" Said Insano, connecting the wires between the robot's legs and torso.

"Nearly is not good enough!" Said Vyce, slamming his fist down. "I went through a lot of effort to steal that arm from the Champion. I want this android up and running NOW!"

"Calm down, you big baby! It's almost done." Said Linksano, connecting the last few wires between the torso and the head. A red light went off in the robot's eye.

Excellent! Now we just need one last tweak to set off his motor!" Said Linksano, grabbing a piece of paper from the side of him, and waving it in front of the robot's face. It was a snapshot of Linkara.

The robot's eyes squinted slightly, trying to make the image out. His hands started curling up into fists, his jaw clinched. He reached out his fist and punched Linksano across the room.

"Ah." Sighed Vyce, a grim happiness creeping out of his voice. "Now with the android up and running, it is time to contact my forces in the other reality. We're going to need my army to fight the Champion and his allies."

"Sure thing, Lord Vyce. I'll get right on that, right after I peel Linksano off the wall." Insano walked over to Linksano and helped him up.

"Mommy," Said Linksano, in a way that could almost make you see the birds circling around his head, "I want to ride on the merry-go-round now."

"Sure thing, we'll go on the merry-go-round." Said Insano, grudgingly. "Right after you help me open a dimensional rift in the fabric of the universe that an army could fit through."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, sure. Now get back to work!" Insano then slapped Linksano across the face, which shook away the birds.

"Sorry about that. I must have lapsed off there for a second." Said Linksano, still slurring slightly but coherent enough not to think he was 5 years old again. "Let's get back to it."

While the Sanos got to work on the rift, Vyce started uploading combat data into Mechakara's brain circuitry. Mechakara was going to become ten times the fighter he was before, and Linkara had better be ready for him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: A Stream Runs Through It

LordKaT was not in a good position. In fact, to put it bluntly, he was an arse ripe for the raping. And if the vicious beast that was hunting him through the New York streets found him and caught up with him, that last metaphor could become a horrifying reality. He kept fiddling with his phone, trying to get a call out to one of his Mafia, but to no avail. Someone seemed to have blocked the signal.

"I will find you, Hoak Hogan! And when I do, I'll send you on a one-way shuttlecraft to the forest moon of Endor, where the ancient tribe of marshmallow men will see to it that you are roasted like a 10-year-old prison warden, and then served to Cthulu and her wives with Habanera sauce and then sent to the Marx Brothers for extreme testing. *skronk*"

LordKaT cursed under his breath, and continued trying to get a signal. He considered contacting someone through Braille blips on a radio signal, but he had never learnt it. This caused him to curse under his breath again. Then, he had an idea. He looked at his surroundings: He was holed up in a warehouse. He checked his equipment: He had his (at the moment) useless phone, his lucky Tommy gun, a couple of paperclips, a box of matches and a cigar box in his jacket pocket containing a few Cubans. There was no way he was going to get away from the wacky wrestler; he was way too fast to run away from; and chances for back-up didn't look promising. So he was left with one option: Go out all guns blazin'.

He looked across at a panel of sheet metal that was peeling away from the wall. And then, the fader switch of his brain's light bulb started turning on. He kept looking around, and found an arc welder attached to a large battery. He thought of using it as a weapon, but the battery was too awkward to carry around with him, as he didn't have a backpack to carry it in, so it wasn't going anywhere. However, it wouldn't need to. The dimmer switch was turned higher. Close to the arc welder was a standard-issue toolbox, which was locked. The light bulb shone bright and proud, and LordKaT got to work.

He took one of the paperclips out of his pocket and bent it into a single loop. He then placed it in the toolbox's lock and, after a few moments of jiggling and guesswork, heard the victory click of the lock and he flung it open. In it, he found a crowbar, which he used to pry off the last edge of the sheet metal that was clinging to the wall, until he realised that there was a small pile of sheet metal to the left of him. Oh well, he thought, better late than never. Using a hammer, wrench and a few other crude tools from the box, as well as the arc welder, he began fashioning a make-shift piece of body armour for himself; one that he could fasten around his torso using the elastic of his pants (Luckily, he chose to wear a belt that day). The hard banging noises coming from the tools did alert the Warrior, however, who shouted out "I can hear you banging away inside there!" In response to which, two people scrambled out of some nearby bushes, hurriedly putting their clothes back on. The Warrior's eyes flared up, and got into a frenzied run towards the couple.

"Come over here! I will do to you what I did to Santa! And to Hoak Hogan!"

This sexual attraction distraction managed to buy some time for LordKaT, and his frantically beating heart slowed down a little, allowing him to calm down slightly and get back to work. By cutting a few strips of the metal away from the sheet using the surprisingly sharp end of the crowbar, welding them together and smoothing them out so that it resembled a basic (if not rough-around-the-edges) steel pole, and then welding the hammer on one end and the crowbar on the other, he had fashioned himself a rudimentary weapon that he could use to fight the beast. He took out his Tommy gun and checked the clip. It had enough bullets to take out an elephant, so he was okay there. When he had finished putting together his Sierra-inspired armoury, he took out one of his cigars, put it to his lips, bit the end of it and lit it up. He gave it a few puffs, letting the rich tobacco smoke (Or, at least, he was told it was tobacco) fill his lungs for what he feared may be the last time.

With his home-brand metal body armour strapped to his chest, even more primitive looking Murder-Killer leaning on his shoulder and Tommy squeezed by his left hand, LordKaT was as ready as he would ever be. He wedged his weapon into the crack of the sliding door, and pulled it open. The door slid straight up with such force that it immediately got the Warrior's attention. LordKaT stared straight at the insane thing, holding that last Cuban between his teeth and still savouring it.

"You wanna wrestle, you son-of-a-bitch?" Said LordKaT, brandishing his two weapons in such a way that it would make Dante blush, "Just call me the chef. Today's main course: Asphalt, and plenty of it!" And with that, the Ultimate Warrior let out a bestial roar (Okay, a MORE bestial roar that he usually utters), and charged straight at our inventive protagonist. He responded to the attack in kind, holding out his weapon like a shield and ran towards the Warrior. The two collided, resulting in a shoving match between the two of them. Even though the Ultimate Warrior was only using his arms as his shoving weapon, you could almost see sparks flying from the conflict. LordKaT and the Warrior were both roaring through gritted teeth as they both tried to best their opponent, but LordKaT's rear foot was starting to slip. He wasn't powerful enough to face this Frankenstein made of equal parts muscle and insanity. Just as he felt his rear foot slip a further inch, he saw the Warrior's right hand pulling back, his fist clenched tight. He was silently praying that his body armour would hold up. Well, he guessed he would find out in a few minutes. Just then, he felt it; a large shove at his chest. It didn't hurt as he had expected; the armour had done its job. However, he should have done the same for his back, since the punch sent him flying back into the warehouse and colliding with the back wall.

As he shook himself from his daze, and groaned from his hurt back, he heard an angelic sound; a sound that brought his soul into the very heights of nirvana, and sent it straight back down to his body with a renewed sense of vigour and determination. It was coming from his phone.

"Jason, are you there?" Said a wispy female voice. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," He groaned again, "I'm here."

"Oh," Sighed Roses, "I'm so glad I got to you before you got hurt." LordKaT groaned again, although it was much less pained than his last. "Look, we know that the over-muscled idiot is after you. I managed to trace your cell-phone signal and me and a few others are on our way over there. Just hang on, Jason. We'll be there before you can say 'Jake Stonebender'."

In his head, he thought the words 'Jake Stonebender', and as if he had just uttered a magic spell of plot convenience, a loud crash came from the side of the warehouse.

"Well, that drive could have gone a bit better." Said a smooth male voice from the crash's direction.

"No shit." Said a grizzled and rage-filled-scream-scarred voice. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You couldn't keep attention to the road and we end up crashing into the side of some sort of metal barn? Did you have your sense of direction swapped with a monkey's?"

"Hey, don't diss the Monkees!" Said Roses, followed by an echoed slapping noise.

"Will you guys calm down? We're here to find Jason. Will you try to remember that next time your over-dominant snarkiness takes over?" Said an intelligent, and yet juvenile at the same time, woman's voice, taking control of the verbal storm that was brewing.

Speaking of storms brewing, the Warrior was skulking around looking for them, while LordKaT's rag-tag team of streaming buddies were looking for LordKaT, and LordKaT himself was looking for some feeling in his spine. Luckily, two of them found what they wanted. LordKaT stood up and greeted his friends. Roses leapt forward and hugged LordKaT, LordKaT resisting the urge to stare at her tattoos.

"Oh, I'm so glad to see you're okay." As she said this, she realised that LordKaT was slightly colder and more metallic than she remembered. She looked down, and saw the metal coat he had strapped to his chest. "I see the Warrior has been giving you a hard time."

"Yeah, but now we're going to give HIM a hard time."

And before he could even end his breath, JesuOtaku piped in with "That's what she said." The five of them let out a tense giggle, happy that they could at least share a laugh or two, even in this most terrible of situations.

"I have got you, Hoak Hogan! And I am going to turn you into yellow-lamb shishkebab, and blast you straight into the E.T. cartridge crater, where the black hole of sucky-sucky-sucky will devour your two-cent nickel-for-a-pair shoes. You cannot escape the DESTRUCITY!"

"God, do you ever think before you open that chasm of stupid on your face?" Said Nash, reaching behind him and swinging around his trusty custom Stratocaster, which was hanging from a strap across his shoulder. Taking his lucky pick from behind his left ear, he let loose with a lick that was so loud and so tasty that it sent the Warrior flying backwards into the bushes.

"Hey LordKaT," Said Nash, clearly riding on a wave of smug from that display of guitar skills, "Wanna add some heavy metal to that rock?"

"With gusto." Said LordKaT, hurling his makeshift weapon at the bushes like a javelin, crowbar end forward. They heard a stabbing sound, followed by a death roar coming from the bushes. But just before they could congratulate themselves on making one less shitstain on wrestling's legacy, they heard a vicious voice utter this:

"With blood and rage of crimson red,

Ripped from a corpse so freshly dead

Together with our hellish hate

We'll burn you all, that is your fate, Hoak Hogan!"

And with that, the bush burst into flames, and from out of the flaming foliage rose the Warrior.

"You forget that I have powers beyond those of mortal beings! I have been granted a most awesome power from the great Guardian, and I will use it to turn your bones to dust!" He reached out with his arm, a bright red ring glowing on his index finger.

LordKaT let loose with his Tommy gun, spraying the Warrior with bullets. But each bullet merely bounced off of him. His jaw dropped, as did his cigar which dropt to the ground below him. They all gulped, and immediately ran away from the corrosive blood globules the Warrior had just flung at them.

"Nash; you're the biggest comic book nerd here. How do we beat this guy?" Asked Paw, mid-bolt.

Nash tensed his temples as best he could, as he scanned his neural database.

"From what I can remember, we either need to separate the ring from the rest of him, or make him feel love."

They stopped running for a few seconds, and looked at both PushingUpRoses and JesuOtaku.

"Guess again." They said in unison.

"Oh well," said Nash, "I guess it isn't that kind of story. But how are we going to get close enough to him to cut of his fingers?"

An idea struck Paw. At first, he was afraid to voice it, in case something else should strike him, but due to the necessity of the situation, it seemed to be the only choice they had.

"Maybe we can combine the two."

"Were you not listening to us just then, saying we wouldn't do it?" Asked JesuOtaku.

"I am not asking that you seduce the Warrior on your own. I'm suggesting we use one of you as a distraction so that the rest of us can get close enough to him to chop his ring off. If we fail, at least we have the 'love' strategy to fall back on."

"But there's a little bit of a problem with that." Said LordKaT, a grin stretching over his sick face. "The Warrior is more inclined to, well, 'Lean to the left', if you know what I mean."

"Oh God, please don't tell me you've brought strawberries with you!" Said Paw, shuddering as he thought of that harrowing experience from years past.

"Unfortunately, I didn't pack them. Fortunately though, we do have another option."

"What?" LordKaT just looked at him. "Oh, come on! Are you serious?"

"Oh, come one, Paw." Said Roses, stepping up to his side, "LordKaT wouldn't be able to do it. He isn't as rugged and sexy as you are." As she said this, she came closer to Paw, putting her palm flat on his chest and leaning into his face.

"Really?" Said Paw, his ego taking the driver's seat.

"You do have a certain masculine charm, I must admit." Said JesuOtaku, stroking her chin and pretending to examine Paw's physique.

"Alright," proclaimed Paw, "I'll do it."

Paw turned around and strutted back towards the hulking son of the Butcher. The others snuck back behind him, muttering to themselves about blackmail material.

"Oh, Jimmy!" Cooed Paw as he approached the lumbering behemoth, "Has anyone ever told you that you are one sexy mofo?"

"Mofo?" Questioned everyone. Clearly Paw was still learning the tools of the flirting trade. Nevertheless, the group snuck around so that they could get to the Ultimate Warrior's back, JesuOtaku brandishing a butcher's knife she had taken with her (Why, is a question that would probably give most of us nightmares) to do the slicing.

Paw could see the red aura of rage radiating from the Warrior's being start to fade slightly. Despite his faux pas, the ruse appeared to be working.

"I see you have noticed the massive-tastic looks of the Ultimate Warrior. Did I ever tell you about the time I made Santa my $9 spit roast?"

Paw shuddered, disturbed by yet another horrible memory he hoped he could shake later on, if there was a later on.

"No, but I bet he enjoyed every minute of it." Paw struggled to utter without showing how sick he was feeling, getting more nervous with each passing moment, but feeling slightly better after seeing his friends behind the Warrior ready to remove the source of his power… as well as his Red Lantern ring.

Paw continued to approach the Warrior, his aura fading more noticeably now, and he opened his arms out for a reluctant embrace, the Warrior following suit. Just as their bodies were about to touch (And a whole new slashfic was about to be written… hopefully not), JesuOtaku leapt forward with the energy of a crazed howler monkey and slashed wildly at the Warrior, the others doing their best to hold back the divine creature like that one scene from 'Dogma', Paw included. LordKaT grappled with his right arm, having retrieved his cigar from the ground and attempted to burn it into his eye to little effect; Nash grabbed his legs and tried to get him off his feet (Careful now); Paw had the Ultimate Warrior's other arm and was trying to clasp his headphones on the wrestler's massive head, on which he had playing a continuous loop of white noise at 120 decibels, which he hoped would at least distract him; and JesuOtaku was grabbing at his throat from behind, trying to slash and stab into him with the butcher's knife.

While the reviewers were trying to fight off the mammoth mountain-o'-man, Roses went searching for LordKaT's makeshift weapon, if it had survived. She used her jacket to smother the flaming bush, and reached around for the weapon. She found it, along with several spots of the Warrior's blood, meaning she had to act fast before the blood melted through and became useless. She grabbed it, making sure not to grab the melting sections of it as she did so, brandished the crowbar end of the weapon and chopped at the Warrior's hands, severing both of them. A wild spray of blood came from the wounds, causing everyone to run for cover in the warehouse. The blood spray reached everywhere around him, turning the asphalt, nearby bushes and even some of the warehouse into a molten mess. And with that waterworks display of blood seldom seen outside of a Yoshihiro Nishimura movie, the Ultimate Warrior was slain.

"Hey, LordKaT. Could you pass me your phone?" Asked Nash, after they were certain that they wouldn't get their flesh melted away by the bloodworks. LordKaT handed him the phone, and he dialled an unusually long number and put it on speakerphone.

"Hey, Space Guy. You can track cell phone signals, can't you? Can you give us a lift to Illinois?"

"Depends," Said Space, in his voice that had a faint robotic undertone to it, "on if that poor excuse for a human is still alive."

"Unfortunately, yes, Paw is still alive."

"Hey!"

"Hey, you were the one who volunteered to be the Warrior's bitch. Seriously though, the Ultimate Warrior is dead, as far as we can tell."

"Good. I just recovered this ship from that infernal bear, and I didn't want to risk letting that maniac take control of it. Prepare for teleportation."

As the ship was preparing to beam them up, Roses winced slightly and looked at her hand. There was a burn mark on her palm, and three of her fingers had lost a few layers of skins. Paw had noticed as well and consoled her about it, but the ever-resilient Roses did not let the pain she was feeling show.

As the team was beamed up to the alien ship, a faint red light shone in the area they had just left. It was extremely faint though, as it was reverberating from a corpse's stomach. And as it glowed, the dismembered fingers twitched.

"You maggot!" Shouted the demonic voice of the being in the cloak, scolding the Ultimate Warrior with every breath he could muster. "I don't know why he ever bothered to help you, you worm! You are worthless to our plan! You're lucky I brought you back to the Blagg Hole!"

"Yeah, the only thing 'ultimate' about you is your ultimate failure at their hands." This was followed by an eerie cackle from the demented jester.

"Hey, it wasn't my fault. One of them seduced me."

"Bah!" Said the Gatecleaner, smacking the Ultimate Warrior across the face with his yellow-ringed hand.

"Humbug!" Said Chuckles, giving a slight chuckle as he did so.

"Shut up, you! Anyway, as I was saying, I have been contacted by one Dr. Insano. He specifically asked for our help in opening a hole in reality through which he plans to bring forth an army. I, however, had another plan."

Chuckles wanted to chime in, but after one look at the Gatecleaner's sickly smile, he knew what he was thinking. The Ultimate Warrior, however, needed exposition.

"What is our plan, most bodacious of masters?"

"We are going to help them, as they have requested. But, we are going to get something back in return. Specifically, two somethings in return. And with their guidance and your assistance, I shall be able to leave this plane and take my place as the ruler of all!"

And somewhere, a fanboy just shouted "Of course!"

The three grim Lanterns got to work on the ritual required to open the rift, looking into the Ultimate Warrior's Black Gate spell, and with their help, the enemy grows ever stronger.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Putting The Fatal In Femme Fatale

Nella sat down on her surprisingly comfy hotel bed and rifled through her assortment of goods from the convention downstairs. Most of it was Star Trek memorabilia, such as a new Tricorder and another 'signed' photo of William Shatner to add to her collection, but in one of the bags, she came across something odd. Now, Nella was extremely well-read, and well-viewed, when it comes to Star Trek, and you'd be hard pressed to find anything even vaguely hinted at in canon that she didn't know about. And yet, looking at this discus-shaped contraption, she was puzzled as to what it was. It looked a black disc with a big red button in its centre, like something that would set a ship to self-destruct, but alas, it didn't press.

She continued examining it, always being fascinated by anything new, when it suddenly began blinking in the centre. At first, the blinks were erratic, at 5-7 second intervals, but over time, it got quicker. As the blinking became faster and faster, Nella's heart began quickening and sweat began to appear on her top lip. She immediately dropped it back on the bed and leapt out of her room, landing curled up on the floor with her arms over her head. However, aside from getting a confused look from Marzgurl as she went back to her room, nothing happened. The blinking merely stopped.

Nella's pulse slowed down and a massive sigh of relief escaped her lungs. She got up to go back, but she felt worried that she might find another booby trap, so she figured she should leave them be, at least for a little while. Iron Liz was in the room next to hers; good place to start. She got up and knocked on her door.

"Come in." Said Iron Liz, and Nella did so. Liz was self-brainstorming about new ideas for a Dungeons & Dragons she had planned with Linkara and Spoony. Liz quickly noticed that Nella was flustered, as her face now resembled a large beetroot. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Said Nella, wiping her forehead and trying to shake off what had just happened. "Just got a bit of a shock from before. Some idiot gave me a dummy item."

"That's bound to happen sometimes. Say, have you gotten any feedback about the others?"

"Yeah, I was about to ask you about that." Nella sat down on the bed next to Liz. "Don't you think it's weird that there are barely any of us here? I mean, Lindsay hasn't heard anything from Todd, Phelous seems to have disappeared off the radar, and have you gotten any word back from Linkara?"

Liz shook her head. "Can't say I have, no. I wouldn't worry too much about it, though. It's MAGFest; it's like Christmas, it only comes round once a year. We should be having fun, not worrying about where the men are like token women archetypes."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I guess I'm just a little shaken up still from that disc thing."

Liz's eyebrow rose.

"What did you say?"

"The disc thing; You know, that gag gift I found in my bags."

"What did it look like?" Her tone had suddenly taken one that would make Jack Bauer go 'Calm down, damnit!'

"It looked like a big red button that doesn't work."

All of a sudden, there was the sound of breaking glass, coming from Nella's room. Not missing a beat, Liz grabbed Nella's arm and lead her out into the hallway. Then, without provocation, there was a loud explosion from Nella's room, shattering the door to splinters and sending Li and Nella flying backwards from the shockwave, causing them to fly backwards and slam into the wall behind them. Liz quickly got up and ran back to her room. Once there, she pulled a black case out from under her bed and opened it, revealing her two swords: Twinkle and Icic Death. She grabbed them and went into a battle stance.

"Well?" Said Iron Liz, the sudden change in circumstances having no substantial effect on her, "Don't just stand there. I trust you have something to defend yourself."

Nella rolled her eyes, reached for her hip and retrieved her phaser. As if to quell Liz's suspected confusion, she pointed it at the wall and fired, leaving a small circular scorch mark on the wall.

"I'll take that as a yes. Also, you do realise I'll have to pay for that." Liz said, as they made their way down the corridor.

They systematically knocked on each door as they passed, revealing the other reviewers whom had made it to MagFest so far: Lindsay and Elisa were biding their time with Obscurus Lupa, whom kept trying to explain why Cynthia Rothrock was so awesome but to no avail; Marzgurl was watching a bootleg of The Land Before Time 24 that a fan sent her, which proved to be just a crappy fan film (Well, MORE crappy than the sequels); and Dena was reading yet another volume on arcane rituals, in hope of finding something that could turn the next Silent Hill movie into something good. One by one, the reviewers suited up for action: Marzgurl grabbed a staff from her bedside, which Juno had lent her because 'she sensed danger' that she never clarified on; Dena brought her book with her; Obscurus Lupa reached into her suitcase and pulled out a wrist-mounted device on a strap, which she fixed to her right wrist; and Lindsay and Elisa took out their own phasers (Which Nella passed to them as they entered the corridor).

"Any idea what could be wrong?" Lupa asked Liz.

"I have a hunch." Said Liz, gripping Twinkle so hard in her hand it looked like her knuckles would go through the skin.

They ran down the stairs and entered not hell, per se, but something close enough to it: Figures in black cloaks were attacking civilians with daggers, booths were overturned, most of which were on fire, and almost every window was shattered.

"I hate it when I'm right." Said Liz, brandishing her swords. "That thing you found, Nella, was a tracking device. It led the Shades here. Okay, we need to get the civilians to safety. Nella, you, Elisa and Lindsay help get the civilians out of here. The rest of you, we need to take these Shades and fast. Let's go, people!" The group quickly disbanded, and got to work.

Nella immediately ran towards a couple whom were trapped under a large table. She pulled out her phaser and split the table in two, making it fall to either side of the couple, who got up, bruised but mobile.

"Thank you." Said the woman, pulling herself up as well as her husband.

"Just doing my job. Now let's get out of here." Nella immediately led them towards the hotel's back exit, which was blocked by three Shades, each holding a hostage by the neck. Taking initiative, she let off three phaser blasts at the Shades, being careful not to shoot at the people she was supposed to be saving. Two of the shots stayed true, hitting their Shades in the head, causing them to release their captives and fall to the ground in a heap. The last shot, however, only hit the Shade in the shoulder, causing it to stumble slightly, but to ultimately regain its grip and pull out its dagger. A twinge of fear struck Nella like a bullet to her heart.

"No!" Shouted Nella, trying to fire again but not getting a clear shot. The Shade plunged the dagger into the captive's back, the victim letting out a cry as it did so. The Shade then dropped him to the ground. Nella, in an uncharacteristic fit of rage, ran at the Shade and tackled it to the ground. She then grabbed either side of its head and, with a few tugs, pulled its head from its body, giving off a few sparks as it did so. She then threw the head into the nearest garbage bin, noticing the Shade dagger just before. The dagger still had the captive's blood on it.

Just as Nella was about to go into a sobbing fit, the captive let out a choked gasp. Nella quickly ran over to him and picked him up, gesturing for the other civilians to follow. Behind her, Lindsay and Elisa were bringing out more people they had managed to rescue. The survivors quickly made their way to the car park from where they were, as the Shades appeared to have completely flooded the hotel but only its interior, as far as they could tell. Nella gently put down the captive, got out her phone and dialled 911.

"You guys head back inside and help the others," she said to the others, "I'll stay out here and make sure this guy gets to the hospital." They nodded and ran back inside, while Nella stayed at the young man's side and called for an ambulance, all the while doing her best to help her patient be slightly less freaked out than he was

Meanwhile, back inside, the other reviewers were becoming outnumbered. Marzgurl was firing beams of blue energy from her staff at the horde, which thinned it somewhat but they were still outgunned.

"The Hidden II." Lupa spoke into her wriststrap, the device electronically chirping it back to her, and then suddenly, as if some phantom force in her wriststrap had made a move eons beyond our comprehension, she vanished. A series of invisible footsteps made their way around the bulk of the Shade army. Once she had made her way all the way to the rear of the horde, she stopped.

"Rapid Fire." Whispered Lupa, and she re-appeared, now brandishing a pistol the size of her forearm, the device echoing the command back to her. She then fired away at the army, shredding through them like paper. Before she could do its job entirely, a loud click came from the gun, causing Lupa to drop, where it faded from reality.

The Nostalgia Chick undid the bowtie that she had chosen to wear that day, and flung it at the Shades like a boomerang. As it made contact with each Shade in its path, particularly their necks, their heads flew off as the razor-sharp bowtie hit them. It lung back around to Lindsay, who simply did it back up with a placid look on her face.

"Deactivation by decapitation. Kinda has a ring to it, doesn't it?"

"I would have gone with 'Hate to be a pain in the neck' myself." Said Liz, always one for the cheap one-liner, followed by the typical collective groan from the group.

"Gee," Piped up Elisa, doing her best to make sure she was heard, "These guys could sure do with a makeover."

A small puff of pink smoke appeared beside her, heralding the arrival of the Makeover Fairy.

"Did somebody say 'makeover'?" Said the Makeover Fairy, in her usual cheery yet painful screech of a voice. She took a quick look at the Shades.

"My, what have we got here?" She hovered in a circle around the droids, "Hooded cloaks are so last season. Today's homicidal robots go for a more urban look." She waved her magic wand, adding leather jackets to the Shades' ensemble.

"Yes, very… Terminator. But still, we need something else. You'll definitely need some haircuts. Or… hair at all, really." She waved her wand again, and hair suddenly sprouted from their heads, oddly enough in the shape and fashion of mohawks.

"Hmmm… There's still something missing…" She rubbed her chin for a few seconds, then snapped her fingers in triumph.

"I know! You need sunglasses!" She waved her wand a third time, this time producing a pair of sunglasses just below each head-of-hair-that-shouldn't-be-there.

One of the Shades, whom clearly possessed a 'Capability For Getting Pissed Off' circuit, reached out and grabbed the Makeover Fairy by the throat. Liz and the others quickly got back into the fray, but the other Shades kept them busy while the Makeover Fairy was struggling against the Shade's iron fist. She kept trying to wave her wand, but the loss of blood circulation was making it difficult to keep conscious, let alone perform magic. Just when she felt like her many centuries of practice were to go to waste, Dena made it through the horde and, using her book to reach into the depths of Silent Hill, summoned a Pyramid Head to cut through the Shade's arm, and then the rest of its body. The Makeover Fairy grabbed the robot's hand that was still clutching her throat, albeit not as tightly, and threw it to the ground below her. She cracked her neck, gave the back of her neck a rub with her hand and gripped her wand with both hands.

"Thanks, Dena. Now I've got a different kind of makeover in mind." Her voice began losing its usual cheeriness, and was started to sound twisted and distorted, as if it were being played back on a stereo that was running low on batteries. She then sweeped her wand from right to left, which caused the reviewers to be flung towards the walls in heaps. She then waved it again, and the Shades then gravitated towards each other with such force that they mashed together, forming a misshapen blob of wires, metal and leather that floated a few feet above the ground. She then made a faux lunging stab forward with her wand, and the blob exploded like an atomic bomb, sending Shade debris all over the hall, some pieces requiring a microscope to properly see.

"This is one fairy," Said the Makeover Fairy, her voice switched back to the diabetes-level-sweetness that it was normally, "That NOBODY fucks with!" And with that, she waved her wand one last time, and she disappeared in another puff of pink smoke.

The reviewers, clearly trying to figure out what the H.P. Lovecrap just happened, then heard the last intact window smash, followed by several marching footsteps making their way in through it. The owners of the footsteps all had the same face: Thick eyebrows, moustaches, and a perpetually pissed-off expression. Marching at the front was their leader, wearing a black jacket with white stripes on the sleeves, covering a red-and-black Superman t-shirt.

"Angry Joe Army, halt!" Said Joe, the army coming to a sudden stop. He took a quick look around the room, seeing the still bug-fuck-confused women, the remains of the convention and the coating of electronics on the walls and floor, stuttered for a few moments, but then found his voice again.

"Looks like those Shade bastards heard we were coming and ran off scared. Don't you think, boys?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Said the Army.

The Nostalgia Chick's brow twitched.

"Yeah, that's right. Take all the credit for our work."

Joe ran over to Lindsay and the others and helped them up.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't want the Army to think they had come all this way for nothing. I had to think of something." Said Joe, trying his best to be charming and failing yet again.

"Well, at least you actually turned up to help, which is more than I can say for the others."

"Yeah, about that: We've kept receiving word about the others getting attacked by these things, and others, so I brought my ship round and picked up the others. You had already left for MagFest by the time we got the message, so I picked the people who were closest first then came here."

Lindsay was about to say something else, but Joe stopped her.

"Look, we don't have much time. The longer we stay here, the longer we stay targets for those mechanical bastards. We need to get on the ship now, while we have a window. Let's go." And with that, Joe, his Army, and the other reviewers made their way to Joe's ship, which was parked quite conspicuously on the ground.

As it got down to the last few people getting on (That is, after the thousand-strong Army got on first), Dena saw something out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey!" Shouted Nella, running as fast as she could towards the ship, "Wait for me!"

Now, while Dena did notice this, this wasn't what she was worried about, but rather what was following Nella to the ship.

"Quick!" She shouted ahead. "There's more of them coming!" And as if they needed a reason, they quickened their pace and all got on the ship within a few minutes. However, just as Nella was getting on, a Shade grabbed her leg and prevented her from climbing on completely, meaning the entrance had to stay open to prevent further harm to Nella, and giving the Shades a means of entry. Knowing they needed to get moving, Joe ordered Lisa to start up the ship. Nella kept kicking at the Shades till they let go of her, which they eventually did, just as they started getting off the ground, but a few of the Shades had already climbed aboard. Quickly, Joe activated the 'close' controls, and retrieved his guns, ready for a fight, as did the other gamers whom he had picked up earlier.

Just as they had reached a high enough altitude to fly off, a faint noise came from outside. The reason why they could hear it over the metallic clanging of the Shades scrambling up the ship was because it quickly became louder. As it got closer, some of the ship's other passengers, whom represented the main core section of Blistered Thumbs, began to have a collective fangasm, as they would have recognised that New Jersey accent anywhere, even if it wasn't saying actual words. All of a sudden, Nella appeard to pull herself up, leaving two different hands clutching the closing entrance. They pulled themselves up, revealing a man in a white pocket shirt. He immediately retrieved his Zapper from his pocket and fired it at the Shades that had gotten ahead, reducing their heads to sparking wires. He then punched one of the closer ones in the face, severely denting it and forcing it to collapse on the ground, and he swiftly ran upwards towards the bridge. He then took one of the pens out of his pocket and threw it at the Shades that were still in front of the closing entrance. He then pressed a button on the rim of his glasses, causing the pen to beep for a few seconds and then explode, sending the Shades flying out of the ship.

"Take that, you fucking ass-rags!" Shouted the Nerd, casually making his way up to the bridge, where the reviewers began relapsing into their fanboy selves.

"You didn't honestly think you fuckballs were going to do this without me, did ya?"

As Angry Joe's ship flew towards the Windy City, in a small laboratory nearly devoid of wind, two scientists continued bickering.

"Are you seriously listening to yourself?" Said Linksano, smacking Linksano in the face, "We can't trust the Gatekeeper. Science knows what insane scheme he's concocted."

"Yes, because your plans are completely sound of mind, aren't they?" Said Insano, putting a hand to his face where it was hit. "Look, it's not as if we have to like working with them. From what I've been seeing of the rest of this motley crew, tensions are higher than the atomic number of Californium. I say we go through with the plan as suggested, but when the opportunity presents itself, we take advantage of the chaos."

"Oh yeah?" Said Linksano, looking at the monitor showing the Spacetime readings, "How? Mechakara would vaporize us in an instant, Lord Vyce is just looking for an excuse to turn our brains to jelly, and I don't even want to think about what our master could do to us."

"Remember the 'Warrior Incident'?"

"Which one? The one where you nearly destroyed all of Spacetime, the one where I nearly destroyed all of Spacetime, or the one where you saved all of Spacetime because Spoony laced your Red Bull with his happy pills?"

"Any of them, it doesn't matter. The point is what if we could replicate that, only focusing on the more, shall we say, beneficial results?"

Linksano stared blankly for a few seconds.

"I'm still not following you."

"Are you familiar with the term 'strength in numbers'?"

"Strength in what?"

"Strength in numbers." Said Insano, a little irritated.

"I said, strength in what?" Said Linksano, doing a little dance.

"Focus, damn it!" Insano promptly smacked Linksano in the face with his stethoscope. The blow to the head must have slid the puzzle pieces into place, because he immediately figured out what Insano was thinking. He then cackled in maniacal glee.

"You magnificent bastard…"

"If you say what I think you're going to say, I'll going to rearrange your molecules and turn you into a Human Starfish, then give you to my son as a plaything."

Linksano quieted.

"So, what do you think?"

Linksano grinned, and immediately went to his monitor, and got to work.

"If I've got it right, it's pure GENIUS!"

The two then became a mini-chorus of cackling; a solid 20 minute mini-chorus of loud, astoundingly creepy cackling.

"Hey!" Yelled a voice that had snuck up to the laboratory door. It was a half-naked man wearing only a bath towel around his waist and a large sock covering his head.

"Could you keep it down? It's kinda hard attending to my whores with you two ruining the mood."

"Well, sorry Mr. 'Critic Killer'. Just had a major breakthrough in our plot to destroy the reviewers. Nothing too serious."

The Sock just snorted, and left in a huff.

"Sorry about that, ladies." Said the same voice, now muffled by the wall separating the two rooms. "Now, who had the banana-scented lotion last?"

"Whose bright idea was it to have the Sock's harem right next to our laboratory?"

"I think it was our Master's."

A moment of silence followed, leading to the two scientists going back to their respective sections of the lab and continued conversing with the Lanterns about the rift. Insano sported an even wider grin than usual, now secure in the knowledge that he had his own failsafe, just in case things should become undesirable for him.


End file.
